


The Bow and the Faith

by butyoumight



Category: GARO (TV), GARO: Yami o Terasu Mono, Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/pseuds/butyoumight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Those tainted by Horror blood must be cut down.</i> Sengoku Ryouma's history comes home to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An Alternate Universe taking place approximately between the end of the events of _GARO: Yami o Terasu Mono_ , and before the beginning of _Kamen Rider Gaim_.

It should have been a nice night. 

It wasn't every day, after all, or even once a week, or possibly even within a month, that they both felt they had the time for such a frivolous pursuit as a “date”.

Not that either of them were calling it that, that would inevitably be a mistake and cause one or the other of them to begin over thinking the situation at hand.

No, it was simply spending time together, outside of Yggdrasill Tower, and with the agreement _not_ to talk about work for _at least_ an hour.

That had been how it started, anyway. They had gone out to dinner and talked about things other than work, such as some of Ryouma's personal projects, and Mitsuzane's grades. 

Then they had gone on a walk in the park. It was late enough, and dark enough, that at some point Ryouma had taken the forward initiative to take Takatora's hand in his. 

Then Ryouma had started to reflexively drift into work-related topics, and Takatora had taken the initiative to cut that off at the pass, and he pressed Ryouma against the trunk of one of the flowering willow trees, and kissed him to chase the business thoughts off his mind and his lips.

It should have been the _best_ night.

“ _Well, what have we here...?_ ” 

Ryouma pulled away from Takatora so sharply, the back of his head hit the tree and he immediately cursed himself for the lack of caution, because now he was briefly muddled and the voice had gone silent. 

“What?” Takatora's voice was low... In another situation, Ryouma might have taken the time to characterize it as lusty, but now wasn't the time at all, and Ryouma put a hand on his shoulder and hissed a soft ' _shh_ ' in response. Takatora dropped his voice to a whisper, and now the rasping note of lust was gone, and replaced by immediate concern. “What's wrong?”

Ryouma shook his head, closing his eyes, waiting... Waiting to see if he could hear the voice again...

“ _A wanton couple out for a tryst? This is a public place. How depraved._ ” Then it laughed, and the sound was like chitinous legs skittering across a marble floor, rusted chains dragging through stony dirt. 

And it was above them.

Ryouma opened his eyes, and shoved Takatora out and back, through the thin whip-like branches and back into the open. 

Takatora's breath had caught in his throat, his voice was louder now, but strained. “What was that? Ryouma? Did you hear that?”

Ryouma looked up at him, then shook his head- not in answer, but in disbelief. “You understood it?”

Takatora shook his head in return, lifting his gaze above Ryouma, up into the tree. “No. It wasn't any language I recognized.”

Ryouma swallowed. “We have to go. Now.”

“What do you mean? Why?”

Ryouma glanced back at the tree. The laughter was getting louder now, and lower, closer to the ground. “Call a car. Takatora, now, please, believe me. We need to get out of here, now.”

“Ryouma, tell me what's going on! What's the matter with you?”

“That language? I _do_ recognize it.”

Takatora actually laughed at him, and the sound was cut off in a startled grunt as... _something_ landed between them, hard enough to make the ground shake.

“ _Shit_.” Ryouma whispered. 

The beast had eyes _everywhere_ , they opened and closed in sundry strange pairs and threes and mores, all of them different colors but all of them equally bloodshot. It only had one mouth, though, and it yawned open widely. “ _Which of you shall I eat first?_ ” 

' _Why here?_ ' Ryouma thought to himself. ' _Why right now? What is going on?_ '

“Inves!” Takatora shouted and Ryouma winced and found himself driving forward, past the monster, diving at Takatora as he drew his Driver out from beneath his suit coat. “When did they begin speaking?”

“It's not an Inves!” Ryouma shouted, grabbing Takatora's arm and hauling it out and away before he could activate the Driver. “Takatora, leave, go. I'll handle this. _Trust me_.” 

“ _Will you handle this, child? Can you? Have you any idea of my power? My darkness?_ ”

Ryouma ignored the taunt as the creature skittered closer to them. Takatora was still holding his Driver, and in his other hand...

“That's it!” Ryouma snatched the Melon Lockseed out of Takatora's hand, and shoved his partner sharply in the stomach. “Takatora, _go_! I'm serious, please!” 

Then he turned, arms spread, to face the monster... 

The Horror. 

“ _What will your child's toy do to me? I am darkness itself._ ”

Ryouma's mouth rebelled slightly, but the sounds formed neatly as if he'd never stopped speaking the language regularly, as if it hadn't been more than eight years since he'd last had reason or freedom to use this particular idiom. “ _And what is Darkness in the face of Light?_ ” He held up the Lockseed in his right hand as the Horror took a step backwards, many of its eyes opening wide with shock and anger. 

“Ryouma?” Takatora's voice sounded as afraid as Ryouma had ever imagined it, never mind actually heard it. He didn't have time to tell him to run again. He just had to hope that when it started, Takatora would get the idea.

This was not an Inves. Takatora's weapons were useless now. What Ryouma was doing now... What he was about to attempt, he could only hope it would buy him time and the chance to get in close.

“ _Makai Knight?_ ” The Horror hissed, spitting. Something that glowed somehow both red and blue at the same time sprayed from its fanged mouth, sizzling where it hit the ground. “ _No. Impossible. There are none of that kind here, not here. Tell me, how does a mere human know the language of Makai?_ ”

“ _I am no Knight._ ” Ryouma returned fiercely, having to force his mouth to form the words that were no longer in the realm of popular and oft-repeated idiom. “ _But I am no mere human._ ”

He activated the Melon Lockseed. He held no Driver, and so it didn't announce itself, it simply opened a Crack above the Horror, and, more importantly, opened the manufactured force field. 

“Oi! Ryouma, what are you doing?” Takatora's voice was nearly frantic now as Ryouma, with the Lockseed firmly in hand, stepped into the ring before the force field could fully activate. That should keep Takatora out of his hair for now, at least. 

The summoned Inves arrived through the Crack and, under Ryouma's thrall as he held tight to the Lockseed, it dove at the Horror. 

The Horror screeched evilly, the shock wave filled the small space of the force field and blew Ryouma's hair back but he was momentarily as safe as he was going to get. The Horror turned its focus on the Inves, which for its part fought back savagely. 

It helped that the Inves was not something the Horror could sink its fangs into, it wasn't human and had no stain of Inga onto which it could latch. 

Ryouma moved closer, careful to hold the Lockseed tight so as not to lose control of the Inves and then find himself facing two opponents. 

He was only going to have one chance to get this right. In the inside pocket of his lab coat, he always carried his one weapon that could be used against what he had always known would be a possible eventuality, though he had of course hoped it would never come to this. 

It was technically an arrowhead, but this particular piece of hardware, removed from the shaft, was much more like a dagger. The Soul Metal felt hot and heavy in his hand, but he could still touch it, could still lift it, could still make due. 

He slipped it out. Outside of the force field he could hear Takatora shouting, and he resolved to finish this quickly. 

He didn't have the speed he once had, or the strength, but one thing that time and lack of practice couldn't take from him was his knowledge, and his wisdom. He managed to keep the Horror distracted enough with the Inves, and move in close enough... 

He shouted as he lunged forward, and he felt the ring he wore on his left forefinger seem to burn slightly as he drove the makeshift dagger into the small of the Horror's back, directly through one large blinking slate gray eye. 

The Horror screamed and twisted sharply, torn between the burn of Soul Metal and the strength of the Inves still attempting a more traditional route of ripping the Horror apart instead.

“ _This city does not belong to you, Horror!_ ” Ryouma shouted, the Makai language coming more naturally as he used it more. He drew out the dagger, and thrust it forward again, and up, cutting through five or six more eyes. “ _You will be cut down!_ ”

“ _You are no Makai Knight!_ ” It screamed in response, but it was already beginning to split apart and collapse in on itself from the wound.

With a burst of anger it thrust an arm back, shoving Ryouma away. He landed hard against the force field. It knocked the breath out of him and the Lockseed fell from his fingers, but that was no problem, as the Horror seized the Inves between both clawed hands and did it the favor of what it had been attempting to do. 

The Inves squealed as it fell apart, but the Horror was finished. 

The force field disappeared and Ryouma fell backwards, right into Takatora's waiting arms.

“ _You will pay for this insult, you Makai stray!_ ” The Horror screeched, wrenching around, trying to pull the embedded dagger from its back. As it thrashed, its evil blood sprayed around, painting parts of the grass and the hanging tendrils of willow behind it. 

It collapsed, having torn itself open even further in retrieving the dagger. The eyes remaining open gleamed and the fanged mouth turned up at both sides before it disintegrated entirely, dispersing into little more than a wisp of Inga tainted smoke.

Ryouma began to breathe properly again and he looked up, trying to catch Takatora's eyes, to reassure him that he was alright, and to reassure himself that Takatora was.

His breath caught once more in his throat, and then turned immediately into a coughing choked sob.

A spray of Horror blood painted the sharp line of Takatora's cheek bone, and Ryouma felt a shock of fear, of anger, of devastation, run through him as the black mark faded into Takatora's pale skin. 

-

It had been a long time since Aguri had received Orders like this, in a simple blue envelope- from a Regional Watchdog instead of from the Senate or directly from a Priest. 

He raised an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses with one hand. Then he lifted the envelope in his right hand, and made a fist with his left, summoning a small burst of blue Madou Flame to activate the Orders.

The envelope burned away, and Aguri read the words aloud to himself as they formed in the air.

“In a City called Zawame, a human has been stained with the blood of a Horror. They must be cut down, immediately.” 

He repeated the orders to himself, and then winced. He closed his eyes, and took his glasses off to rub at his eyes. 

“Zawame City... Oh, Ryouma. What have you done?”


	2. Chapter 2

When they were younger, they might have held hands on a walk like this. In the wake of the fluttering tails of their father's coat, each would take turns being the one to keep up with his pace, and drag the other along. 

When they were younger. 

They weren't children anymore, not really. They hadn't been since the first time they had seen their father fight a Horror. That had been when they were ten, they were nearing thirteen now.

So they didn't hold hands, but they both kept pace without the extra assistance, walking slightly behind their father, each to one side.

“Our most important task is to protect humans,” their father was saying. His voice was low, his _lecture_ voice, just the right volume and tone that they could both hear him clearly, but that it didn't carry much further. “It is not that they are necessarily weaker than we are, it is that they are more susceptible to certain dangers.” 

He stopped, and so did the brothers. He turned sharply, coat tails snapping before settling, and stared down at each of them in turn. “Do you understand?”

They both nodded and echoed his tone as best they could when they spoke. “Yes, father.” 

“They _must_ be kept unaware of our practices. They must never be involved in the slaying of Horrors. Ryouma, do you remember what I told you about the stain of Horror blood?”

“Yes, father. The scent of Horror blood is irresistible to others of their kind. Anything stained by it will become like a beacon, a magnet for others. This effect is worsened when the stained is a living human, due to their free will and freedom of movement.” The older of the twins spoke evenly, his voice perhaps a shade too loud. He itched to tug on the length of his hair to the right of his part, a nervous habit he'd developed three years ago, but he restrained the impulse. 

“Very good.” Their father nodded once, and turned to look at the other brother. 

“Aguri? What is the end result of a human stained in Horror blood?”

“They must be cut down, father, in the name of protection and most importantly mercy.” Aguri's voice was softer, nearly too quiet, but not quite a whisper. “In one hundred days, one stained by Horror blood will die a much more painful death.”

“Quite right.” 

-

Takatora sat at his desk, fingers threaded, resting his chin atop his hands. On his desk sat an assortment of strange objects that, only a few hours ago, he would have had no interest in. 

An elongated arrowhead, engraved with some archaic symbols that still showed the traces of black around their edges. A strange circular seal of some sort, elaborately engraved and set off-center with a small red stone. The ring that Ryouma usually always wore on his left hand, that Takatora had in fact never seen him take off before this moment. 

A few hours ago, this would have seemed like odd trash- excepting the ring of course, since it obviously must mean a lot to Ryouma for him to wear it every day. 

Now, there was something more, something going on. And these three objects were like the puzzle he had to solve. 

Ryouma paced the length of Takatora's office and back again, quite the elaborate feat considering the size of the room. He was muttering to himself, but at least he was no longer speaking that strange rasping language that the monster had also spoken. 

“Ryouma,” Takatora said finally, after a good ten minutes of simply observing the objects Ryouma had placed in front of him (with the dire warning not to touch any of them that Takatora had figured he should probably follow). “Settle down. Will you come sit?” 

“Can't.” Ryouma muttered in response as he swept past Takatora's desk again. “Have to think of something. How long until they get word...” He was tugging on the length of his fringe. It was a strange gesture, if only because Takatora had always assumed it was a vain one. Now, he wasn't so sure. Now, it looked more like a nervous tic. “How long until someone shows up? Where can we go, where can I take you...” 

Takatora stood up finally, pacing across his office in Ryouma's wake, reaching to catch his frenzied scientist by the shoulders. “Ryouma. You're not making any sense. What are you talking about? Take me where?”

Ryouma reflexively tugged against Takatora's grip for a moment, then stopped and turned sharply, knocking both of Takatora's arms down and grabbing his partner by the shoulders in turn. His gaze was deadly serious when it locked with Takatora's, and his voice, if possible, even more so. “Takatora. There are things in this world that, even if I explained them to you in every possible way, you would still not understand.” 

Takatora raised a disbelieving eyebrow, pushing Ryouma away from him gently and turning around, striding back towards his desk. “You want to try me? I've never seen you like this. You're starting to...” He didn't want to say the word, it was a show of weakness he wouldn't even consider if it weren't for... Well, if it weren't _Ryouma_. “You're starting to frighten me. Tell me what happened. Start where it's easiest. What was that thing?”

Ryouma closed his eyes and sighed, and when he looked again, Takatora was leaning over his desk, looking at the three odd objects again. “Or you could start here, tell me about these things?” 

Despite Ryouma's earlier warning, Takatora moved as though to pick up the arrowhead. Ryouma lunged across the office with an angry curse, shoving Takatora away from the desk and snatching up all three objects. 

Takatora scowled at him. “Are you serious, Ryouma? You owe me an explanation, and you know it.”

“Don't try and pull rank on _me_ , Takatora. You are so far out of your depth right now you have no idea how close you are to drowning.” _'Dangerously close,'_ he thought to himself. _'One hundred days left close.'_

He cleared his throat, avoiding Takatora's glare as he returned his ring to his forefinger, tucked the arrowhead back into the inside pocket of his lab coat and then, with nothing left to do with his sorely out of use crest, he pinned it to his pen pocket. Ironic, in a way. This coat was simple cotton, no magical properties at all, but he had still treated it like Makai clothing for years. 

Then he looked up, meeting Takatora's eyes with a steady, serious stare of his own. “We have to leave the city. Now. I'll explain more once we're out, but I just-”

“No.” Takatora shook his head on the simple, single syllable of denial, and Ryouma nearly screamed at him. 

“Takatora.” He gritted out between clenched teeth, each syllable grating against the one previous. “You need to trust me. I will tell you everything, but right now, _right now_ we need to move.”

“I have business here.” Takatora dismissed him again, turning to return to his desk and sit down. “If you think this is important enough to get me to abandon my duties, then you can damn well explain yourself _now_.” Takatora looked up at him again, but not before his eyes lingered on the crest briefly. Ryouma couldn't help but notice. 

Ryouma sighed, moving closer, and then finally perching on the edge of Takatora's desk, running a hand through his hair. “Where was it you told me to start?”

“With those things you were showing me... Or with that monster. Your choice.” 

“The monster is a thing called a Horror. They're... beings of pure evil... drawn into this world through the darkness in human hearts.” 

He glanced over at Takatora to see how he was following. Takatora's face was somewhat impassive, but his eyebrows were gathered together which indicated intense focus on what Ryouma was saying. Ryouma continued. “They need to be hunted... by specialized weapons.”

“Like that dagger you were using?” Takatora asked for clarification. Ryouma nodded.

“It's not technically a dagger, though I assume you recognize that. It used to be part of an arrow, but I... I don't have a bow anymore.”

“A bow?” Takatora sounded like he almost wanted to laugh, but he restrained the impulse when Ryouma turned a serious stare on him.

“There's a class of people... Like humans, they started as humans, but they've... evolved somewhat. It's their duty to slay Horrors.” He paused, closing his eyes. “Our duty.” 

“Ryouma.” Now Takatora couldn't seem to restrain the teasing note. “Are you telling me you're some kind of superhuman demon slayer?”

“Me? No, I'm not supposed to be. I left my home and forsook my heritage. I wanted to study science.” 

He opened his eyes, glancing over at Takatora. The smile had moved off his face. Now he was as deadly serious as the situation called for. Or almost. He didn't know enough, yet. And Ryouma wasn't sure he was ready to tell him the specifics of the horrible situation they were caught in. 

“Go on.” Takatora said softly. 

He wet his lips and swallowed. “I just... if there is one Horror here, there may be others.” It wasn't entirely a lie. Now that Takatora was stained, there was no doubt that more and more Horrors would show up to find him. “I can... I can try to protect you. But for the sake of the city, for now we need to leave.” 

Takatora's eyes narrowed slightly. “You're not telling me something, Ryouma. I'm not as blind to your tricks as you like to think. If you're trying to protect the city, _and_ me, then why should I leave?”

Ryouma winced. He was too frantic over the stain on Takatora's heart, he was making vital mistakes and missteps. “It's not... There's more to it than simply...” 

He stopped. His senses, perhaps, weren't as dulled as he'd thought when fighting the Horror. After all this time, he still recognized the distinctive buzz in the moment before it became obvious, and he dove over the desk to shove Takatora out of his chair and onto the ground in the same moment as the large window at Takatora's back shattered.

The arrow shot past over them, so close it passed through Ryouma's short ponytail, and embedded itself half-way into the wooden top of Takatora's desk. 

“ _Shit_.” He cursed aloud, and Takatora echoed with a similar sentiment. 

“Ryouma? What's going on now?”

Ryouma shifted up onto his knees, but kept one hand on Takatora's chest, over his heart. “Stay down for a second.”

He turned his head, and eyed the arrow thoughtfully. He had a bad feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, so aching and real that it made his legs hurt. 

The dark red fletching was familiar, innately so. Of course it was. And there was a small scroll tied to the shaft at the end, just in front of the sharply angled feathers. A message. Ryouma scoffed slightly. 

A broken window and a wasted arrow, all for what? To send a message. That arrow had been intended to miss from the start. 

Then again, this _was_ his style. He had to know the job was done properly. 

For a moment, as he reached out with one shaking hand to untie the scroll from the shaft of the arrow, Ryouma had hope. Maybe he could convince him to help, instead of just falling into line and following what were no doubt his orders. 

Maybe he didn't have to deal with this alone.

He opened the scroll, and read it aloud for Takatora's benefit. It came out stilted and awkward. Having been written in Makai text, he not only had to decipher it, but then translate as he went.

“Ryouma. I know you have something to do with this. Come down and outside. Bring the tainted human. Aguri.”

Takatora huffed, disbelieving, and possibly also taking offense to the 'tainted human' bit. Ryouma wasn't sure. “And who's this mannerless Aguri who broke my window?” 

Ryouma sighed, letting the scroll snap shut and moving to get off of Takatora, then offer him a hand up. 

“My brother.”


	3. Chapter 3

Takatora leaned casually against the wall of the elevator, hands in his pockets. He seemed remarkably unconcerned, all things considered. Ryouma wished he could be so confident, but then again, Takatora didn't have an idea of even a fraction of the danger he was in right now, and not just from Horrors.

“I can't believe you never told me you had a brother.” 

“Really, Takatora?” Ryouma sighed, stopping pacing (it wasn't really worth it in the confined space of the elevator anyway) and turning to face him instead. “Out of all of the totally insane and unbelievable things I've told you tonight, _that's_ the one you're going to hold against me?”

Takatora huffed at him, raising one eyebrow and fixing him with a steady stare. “Even I have to admit, if you had told me even half of the things you've told me tonight before I had a chance to see them on my own, I would not have believed you. But family...” 

Ryouma rolled his eyes. “My family isn't exactly _like_ yours, Takatora.” 

Takatora pulled back a bit, tilting his head to one side and looking so overwhelmingly unimpressed that it made Ryouma want to smack him just to get a different expression on his face. He restrained the impulse. 

“What exactly do you think my family is like?”

“Well, you see Mitsuzane every now and again, for one thing.” Ryouma pointed out. Takatora dropped one eyebrow and tilted his head forward.

“You never see your family?”

Ryouma was saved from answering that direct (not to mention _obvious_ ) of a question by the elevator trill announcing their arrival on the ground floor. Ryouma grabbed Takatora's arm and hauled him to his side, then shoved him a bit to make him take a step back. “Come on, Takatora. It's time for you to meet my brother.” 

Takatora followed Ryouma's lead, standing just a bit behind him, as they moved through the lobby and outside into the courtyard. 

It was a little overly cautious of him, it seemed. He'd been envisioning Aguri waiting for them, bow drawn with five arrows on the string, just to be safe. He'd been trying to figure out how he was supposed to stop all of those arrows from finding their mark long enough to speak. 

Aguri had greater faith in him than he had in Aguri, apparently. As they strode out to meet him, Aguri moved closer. No draw, no arrow on the string. He was going to give them a chance to explain... And if Ryouma was _very_ lucky, a chance to convince him to help instead. 

Ryouma kept moving forward, but just as quickly he realized that Takatora had fallen back. He stopped, turning his head. He was glad for it, too, because he managed to catch the look of abject shock that crossed briefly through Takatora's features before he shook it off and regained his usual severe expression. 

Aguri stepped closer, and Ryouma turned to face him. 

“Been a while.” Ryouma said softly. 

“Whose fault is that?” Aguri returned, not bothering with regulating his volume. One eyebrow arched high over the line of his glasses, and his eyes obviously focused on the crest pinned to Ryouma's pocket. “You didn't come to Father's funeral.” 

“I had finals that week.”

“That was four years ago.” 

“I've been to the vault since. Come on, Aguri, like he'd have even wanted me there.” 

They lapsed into an awkward silence for a moment before Aguri shifted, taking half a step forward and slipping into a more aggressive stance, bringing his bow around and angling one of the bladed arms at Takatora. “This is the tainted human?” 

For now, he was merely gesturing, but it could just as quickly turn into a life-ending thrust. Ryouma scowled, putting a hand on the bow behind the blade and shoving it down, away from immediately threatening range. Aguri made a small sound that might have been disbelief, and might have been annoyance, and was more likely a combination of the two, and then some. 

“His _name_ ,” Ryouma said pointedly, “is Kureshima Takatora. Takatora, meet my brother, Kusugami Aguri.” There was no response at first. Ryouma turned to look at Takatora, whose eyes were not, as he would have guessed, on the weapon, but instead locking with Aguri's steady gaze. 

“Something wrong, Takatora?” 

“I...” Takatora didn't usually allow himself to sound so flustered. The awkward cadence of his words didn't reach his face, but Ryouma noticed it especially in his eyes, flicking nervously back and forth between the two of them. “You... I didn't expect... You're _twins_.” 

“A startlingly brilliant observation.” Aguri said drily, and Ryouma took a deep breath to restrain another smacking-impulse, this time for his brother. 

The bright side was that Aguri's dismissive tone seemed to wake Takatora out of his temporary state of startled confusion, and he straightened his posture, slipped a hand into his pocket, and turned on the Kureshima presence again.

The down side was that it was all fixated back on Ryouma, as the closest thing Takatora had to a touchstone or safe port in this conversation. He knew where he stood, or thought he stood, with Ryouma. Aguri was obviously beyond his grasp, and he knew well enough that he didn't have the time to figure out what made Aguri tick just now. 

So he turned on Ryouma. 

“Kusugami? But your name-”

Ryouma grimaced slightly and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Come on, Takatora, you didn't really think Sengoku was my _real_ surname.” He tried to say it with the nonchalant attitude he usually used as armor against that particular look Takatora was giving him now, but he couldn't quite hide how sheepish he honestly felt, finally being caught in this longest standing lie. 

“Actually, I did. Seeing as that is the name, let's see... On your university application, on each of your diplomas, on your resume, on your employment paperwork, and the fact that your background check turned up an entire history.”

Aguri actually laughed a bit, a short two-note chuckle, which made Ryouma feel all the more irritated with the both of them for a moment. “Yeah, well- Wait, you looked up my _university application_?” 

“Standard procedure for security clearance.” Takatora shrugged, smirking. Damn him, always finding some place to regain some of his sorely lost footing. 

Though honestly, that was exactly one of the things Ryouma liked best about him. 

“Well, it's not. My real name. All of that stuff is-”

“Fabricated?” Takatora sounded slightly angry now. “ _All_ of it?”

Ryouma's face twisted into an exaggerated mask of thoughtfulness. “Well. My given first name _is_ actually Ryouma.” 

“Fuck's sake, Ryouma...” Takatora cursed. 

Aguri was looking at him. Ryouma ignored Takatora's annoyance for a moment, looking back at his brother instead. Aguri met his eyes, and shook his head sharply.

“Ryouma, don't...”

“Come on, Aguri...” Ryouma wasn't sure if the wheedling tone would work, but it was worth a try. 

“Don't even tell me. Don't even _ask_. The answer is already no, and you _know_ why it must be so.”

He scowled, shaking his head. “No, actually, Aguri, I don't.” 

“ _What_ are you two talking about?” Takatora demanded, stepping in between them as though he hadn't a fear in the world. There it was again, all of the things Ryouma liked best about Takatora were coming out in full force tonight. 

There was a pause as Aguri turned a disbelieving look on his brother. “You haven't told him, have you?”

Ryouma rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Not _yet_. I started to, but... I wanted to get him out of the city first.”

Aguri scoffed. “And where were you going to take him?”

“I don't know. Somewhere that isn't here.” 

“What,” Aguri leaned forward, tapping the crest on Ryouma's pocket with his forefinger. Ryouma stared down at his brother's hand for a moment, and at the ring on his finger. The ring that should have been his. “Save your city by drawing the Horrors out to you?” He laughed again, one note this time, complete disbelief and dismissal. 

That made Ryouma a little angry. “I handled the first one okay!” 

“Oh, certainly, you did just fine, fighting a Horror with a human near at hand. That worked out wonderfully for you. Now you have to deal with those consequences, Ryouma!” 

“Stop!” Takatora shouted, shoving Ryouma away from his brother. Ryouma stumbled slightly, having forgotten in the moment that Takatora was actually quite a bit stronger than him. 

Not, he thought, as strong as Aguri, and he had to dash forward again as Aguri reflexively brought his bow around to rest on Takatora's shoulder, the blade threatening towards his throat. 

“Explain yourself to him, Ryouma.” Aguri said, and beneath the impassive tone he'd blatantly stolen from their father, Ryouma heard a note of... Sadness? 

“We can save him, Aguri. The two of us, if we worked together.”

“ _Save_ me?” Takatora scoffed, but held himself very still. Ryouma could only imagine how heavy the bow felt on his shoulder. “From what?” Takatora turned on his Chief voice, his _giving orders_ voice. “Ryouma, explain yourself.”

“I will.” He said, then straightened up, putting his shoulders back. Staring down Aguri first, then meeting Takatora's gaze with his own and letting his eyes soften. 

Letting himself feel the very real fear he felt for his friend, his partner... 

“I'll explain everything to you, Takatora. And if it comes down to it, Aguri, I _will_ do what needs to be done. _I_ will.” He paused for a moment to let these words sink in. “But... We have time, still, we _have time_ to try to _fix_ this. There has to be a way, you _know_ somewhere in one of the books is an antidote, or a cleansing... Aguri, _please_. You're my brother. Please help me correct this mistake.”

“Ryouma...” Aguri said warningly again. 

Ryouma swallowed, wetting his lips, and moved forward. He put his hand directly on the blade of Aguri's bow, and lifted it from Takatora's shoulder. He pushed Takatora gently out of the way, and then settled the blade on his own shoulder, and held it there. 

Aguri's eyes widened slightly, and both of his eyebrows raised in subtle surprise. “Ryouma, you...” 

“Don't say it.” Ryouma whispered harshly. “Just _help_ me, Aguri. _Please_.” 

Aguri opened his mouth, as though he was about to speak, then his eyes widened even further and he twisted sharply away from his brother, taking the bow with him. Ryouma stumbled into the sudden space, and Takatora was there, catching him again around the waist. Only this time he had his pocket square out, pressing the fabric to Ryouma's bleeding hand.

“What were you thinking?” Takatora hissed in his ear, but Ryouma was distracted. He looked up as Aguri took three running steps backwards, hopping down a few of the steps that created the Tower's circular courtyard. All with the intimate grace of ages. Ryouma once had been able to move like that. He figured he was far beyond it now. 

Aguri produced three arrows from beneath his coat, setting them all on the string at once. Takatora whistled under his breath. “That shouldn't even be possible...” He whispered, and Ryouma smirked. Takatora had a point. It _shouldn't_ be.

But for the Kusugami school... Three was _nothing_.

Ryouma was almost sure for a second that Aguri had given up on talking, on negotiation, on the request Ryouma had made. He was pretty sure, for just one doubting second, that he was going to die _with_ Takatora, and he guessed he could accept that. This was his fault, after all.

Again, he doubted his brother too much. 

All three arrows flew over their heads. A screeching hiss of anger and malevolence. Ryouma and Takatora both turned their heads to watch as the Horror that Aguri had miraculously sensed dissipated into nothing. 

There was a moment of deafening silence. Takatora let out a shaking breath, then took a slightly less shaky inhale, and when he spoke again, his voice was steady. “Is this going to keep happening?”

Ryouma nodded, his eyes on Takatora's face. Takatora's mouth closed down into a fine line. His eyes became shadowed. He was _angry_.

Ryouma couldn't blame him.

He pulled away from Takatora, keeping the handkerchief pressed to his palm. Aguri was striding closer again, and they met half-way.

“He has a younger brother that means more than the world to him.” Ryouma grit out in a soft, tense whisper. 

Aguri scowled. He looked over Ryouma's shoulder at Takatora. Then back to his brother with a sigh that would best be characterized as exhausted.

“For now, we'll bring him to the old house.” 

“The estate?” Ryouma winced at the thought of returning to his childhood home. But he knew Aguri was right.

There was a library there.


	4. Chapter 4

Takatora didn't take kindly to Aguri's suggestion that they leave _immediately_ as in _right now_ , but he followed their lead with a sullen silence. 

They were lucky that Takatora kept a few changes of clothes in his office in case of emergencies. As for Ryouma, well, he mostly lived out of his lab anyway, and so he had plenty of extra clothes, so to speak. While Ryouma and Aguri packed up the bare essentials, Takatora called the dispatching service that handled Yggdrasill's travel needs. By the time they exited the tower again, there was a car waiting for them. 

Once more it became necessary for Takatora to take the lead. Aguri seemed nonplussed, but Ryouma was glad for these moments. It was for the best that Takatora be allowed to continue feeling like he had some measure of control in _some_ areas, anyway. Takatora tipped the company driver heavily as he took the keys. 

Aguri waited until the displaced employee went inside the building to call a cab for himself before taking the keys out of Takatora's hands. Takatora scowled and Ryouma sidled up next to him, bumping his hip against Takatora's. 

“He's perfectly qualified to drive His Eminence Kureshima-sama around.” 

“That's not the problem.” Takatora responded shortly, and Ryouma rolled his eyes, grabbing Takatora's wrist and dragging him to the back seat. 

“It's not like you know how to get there, Takatora.” He pointed out as he settled in. 

“And where is _there_ , exactly? How far are we going? How long will we be gone?”

“Far enough.” Aguri responded as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. “For as long as it takes.” 

“You could dial down the cryptic responses, _otouto_.” 

“Don't call me that.” Aguri responded with a familiar weary tone.

Ryouma smirked, and put a hand on Takatora's knee to draw his attention back to himself. “We're taking you to my family's estate. I can't tell you exactly where, but it's safe, secure, and there's an extensive library.”

“And more mysterious family you've never told me about?” Takatora pressed. 

“Not so. The estate has been uninhabited for... I guess four years now. I am _technically_ an orphan, you know, I just stretched the inevitable truth forward a few years.” Ryouma glanced up and caught Aguri's eyes in the rear view mirror. Aguri raised an eyebrow, and Ryouma shrugged in response. 

“A _few_ years? Ryouma, your background check reads as your parents having died in an accident when you were _ten_.” 

Aguri actually huffed a one-note laugh at that. Ryouma leaned forward to smack his brother's shoulder. “Stop that.” 

“Leave him out of this,” Takatora grabbed Ryouma's wrist and pulled him back into his seat properly. “He's not the one that's been lying to me for eight years. And you know, I really don't think it counts as orphaning when you're an adult already. Assuming that's what you were implying?”

“Something like that.” Ryouma sighed, pulling his arm out of Takatora's grip and rubbing at his temple. “My mother died when I was ten, so _that_ wasn't entirely a lie either.”

“But your father?” Takatora pressed. 

“Four years ago, like I said. Finals week before graduation.” 

Takatora allowed himself to be duly surprised. “That must have been difficult for you.”

Ryouma didn't respond, and Aguri made another dismissive sound from the driver's seat. Takatora looked between the glimpse of Aguri's eyes in the mirror, and the reflection of Ryouma in the window, and decided to set the topic aside for now and move on.

“You keep mentioning this library.”

“Our mother was a very well respected Priest before we were born.” Aguri answered, his voice dropping into a sort of exposition tone. “For several years, her library remained one of he first stops for Priests or Knights seeking obscure knowledge. She had descended from the legendary Saejima line and inherited much of their collection...”

“I doubt that was what he was asking, Aguri.” Ryouma pointed out.

Aguri gestured vaguely with one hand. “By all means then, Ryouma, tell him what _you_ need the library for.”

“I _sincerely_ doubt that now is the right time-”

“Why not? He's in a moving vehicle, so he can't go anywhere. He's in close proximity, so he can hit you easily, which I certainly think he should have the opportunity to do-”

“Aguri, it _wasn't_ my fault!”

“Why would I want to hit him?” 

Aguri stopped the car suddenly, turning sharply in his seat to stare pointedly at his brother. “Just tell him, Ryouma.” He said this with a serious and compelling tone that brooked no argument. 

Ryouma wet his lips and slumped back into his seat. Takatora was looking at him expectantly. Aguri turned around, and the car started moving again.

“Because I'm trying to save your life.” Ryouma admitted finally. Takatora raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting for more. Ryouma sighed again, shaking his head. “When I fought the Horror... When it was dying, some of its blood got on you. It's... You're cursed now.” He glanced at Takatora's face, at the stark lines that showed off his silent anger- the thin line of his mouth, the thin line between his furrowed eyebrows. He turned away from that cold stare, staring out the window again instead. “If we don't find a cure or a way to stop the curse, you'll die in one hundred days.” 

“Guaranteed?” Takatora turned to catch Aguri's eyes in the mirror again. 

“Absolutely. And painfully.” 

Silence reigned for a moment before Aguri broke it once more.

“So are you going to hit him, or not?”

-

It was still before sunrise by the time they arrived. Ryouma stared out the window as they proceeded up the winding forested drive that led to the Kusugami estate. 

“Eight years?” Takatora asked. He had spent the hours of awkward silence coming to terms with the possibility of his imminent demise, and had come to the conclusion that staying angry at Ryouma wasn't going to make anything easier for any of them. The best thing for him to do would be to help with this research that Ryouma seemed absolutely certain would reveal some cure or fix for their current predicament. 

Besides, Ryouma was right. It really _wasn't_ his fault, Takatora had to admit that he had chosen not to escape when Ryouma had tried to tell him to. 

“Hm?” Ryouma finally turned around to look at Takatora again. 

“You haven't been here in eight years?” He clarified. 

“No.” Ryouma sighed. “I came once, after my father died. The property is... quite massive, it goes significantly deep into the woods. There's a burial vault out there. I did come to pay my respects, even if I'm sure he wasted no dying thought to his runaway son who'd rather study science than claim his birthright.”

“Oh, shut up, Ryouma.” Aguri grumbled, pulling the car up right against the front walk. The house itself was notably smaller than Takatora's own home back in Zawame, but equally ostentatious in some ways, with a certain Gothic style that seemed to fit right in with everything Takatora had been told so far. 

Aguri turned in his seat again after shutting the car off, and adjusted his glasses with a sigh. “Father never hated you.” 

“Well, you can't exactly say he _liked_ me.”

Aguri turned away again, moving to get out of the car. “He was disappointed. You can't blame him for that.” He stepped out of the car, slamming the door after him. Takatora turned his head to watch Aguri circle the car to the trunk, then turned back to look at Ryouma.

Ryouma shook his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” Takatora replied, also scooting towards the car door. “I've just never seen you so...”

“So what?” Ryouma demanded. 

Takatora stepped out of the car, closing the door much more softly, and Ryouma had to scramble to follow him. “Takatora, you can't just say something like that without finishing your thought.” 

“Now what do we do?” Takatora was saying to Aguri. 

“For now, we settle in. Get comfortable. Worst case scenario, we're here for a few months.” 

“That's unacceptable.” Takatora responded. Aguri turned to look at him, his face betraying nothing. “You didn't allow me to leave any messages. My brother...”

“Will be looked after. I'll be sure to send a message letting him know you're alright.”

“And if it goes badly? Worst case scenario?”

Aguri shook his head. “I'm not prepared to make any plans for that eventuality. Not until we know more.”

Takatora stared at him for a moment, then glanced back at Ryouma, who slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. 

“You really are twins.”

“A startlingly brilliant observation.” Aguri repeated himself drily. Ryouma smirked at him for that one.

Takatora pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “Fine, fine. We settle in, and we start this research... when?”

“In the morning. Or, more accurately,” Aguri looked up and towards the East, judging the shade of the sky. “After we all get some rest.”

“ _There will be no rest but death!_ ” 

Ryouma cursed aloud as Takatora gave a disbelieving gasp of “Again?”, and Aguri moved to step in front of them both, drawing two arrows from beneath his coat and sending them flying. They both seemed to skew off to either side of the living shadow that was seeping out of the trees surrounding the front path of the house, collecting on top of the car. 

Aguri drew another three arrows and placed them on the string. “Get him inside, Ryouma.” His voice was tense, and Ryouma knew that this was not the average Inga Horror on the prowl. 

“ _At last you come home, prodigal Bow Knight._ ” 

“Why do they always try to chat?” Ryouma grumbled under his breath, grabbing Takatora's arm and dragging him up the steps, throwing open the front door and attempting to pull his resisting partner inside.

“Takatora, will you please stop fighting me,” Ryouma insisted. “This is different, this is more dangerous, there's no point in-”

“I'm going to die anyway, right?” Takatora cut him off curtly. Ryouma felt like he'd been punched in the sternum. He released Takatora's arm, and moved to stand beside him in the doorway. 

“You want to see him fight?”

“I want to know what we're up against.” Takatora responded. Ryouma knew what he really meant. He wanted to know what he was protecting the city from this time. What he could only protect the city from by not being there.

Aguri hadn't moved. He stood, bow drawn and poised to shoot, his eyes on the Horror as it completed its manifestation.

“ _Who's your new friend, Bow Knight? He smells delicious. Your home will be overrun if you keep him here. Don't you care? I could fix that for you._ ”

Aguri didn't answer, he simply let his arrows fly, and even as the Horror batted them away, he drove forward to engage the unarmed Horror in closer quarters.

“Ah.” Takatora said softly. “The blades aren't just for decoration then.”

Ryouma smirked. “No, they're not.” 

The pair of them watched as the fight progressed. Takatora seemed more tense than perhaps was necessary, he had one hand inside his coat and Ryouma knew instinctively that he was clutching his Driver. For good reason- Aguri didn't seem to be doing well. The Horror had produced a weapon from somewhere, chain whip that gave it more reach than Aguri had, but didn't allow him to get far enough away to return to shooting.

“Should I help him?” Takatora asked. Ryouma shook his head.

“Keep watching. You wanted to see. He's nowhere near done yet.” 

At that, Aguri kicked off the Horror's chest, flipping neatly backwards into enough space just outside of the reach of the Horror's whip. Ryouma smiled as Aguri held his bow in front of himself in both hands. 

“Here we go.” Ryouma whispered.

Aguri shifted, twirling the bow neatly, tracing the portals on either side of himself. Ryouma, having seen transformation hundreds of times in childhood, instead turned to watch Takatora's face as he witnessed a Makai Knight summoning his armor for the first time. 

The armor coalesced around Aguri, and as the Sky Bow Knight, leaped back into the fray. 

Takatora's eyes were wide with surprise and... Ryouma smiled to himself. Takatora was impressed. 

“That could have been you?” Takatora asked in a whisper as Aguri drew another six arrows, letting them all fly with the increased power of the Sky Bow in its Makai form. They punched through the Horror in a neat line, nearly severing it in two at the waist. 

Ryouma was smiling, but it was reflexive. Seeing GAI fight... It was terribly nostalgic, even if it made his chest ache. 

“No.” He answered Takatora at last, as the Horror's dying screech faded, and Aguri sloughed the armor. “No, it couldn't.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Ryouma.” 

Ryouma awoke with a start, jerking sharply enough that he smacked his knee on the underside of the reading table, then promptly toppled sideways off the stool, smacking his shoulder and elbow off the flagstones hard enough to make him wince. 

“Ouch.” He commented duly, rolling onto his knees and rubbing at his arm. “Not my most graceful moment. I've gotten far too used to having chairs with arms. When I was a kid, I'd sit here for hours, no problem, just pouring over all the scientific texts I could find. Or smuggle in.” He looked up then, and offered Takatora a weary smile.

“What are you doing up already? You had a long night. You should still be asleep.”

Takatora slipped his hands into his pockets and stared Ryouma down. “Ryouma, it's already evening. I slept through the day. Have you been here all night?”

Ryouma blinked, glancing around and then up. The library had windows, of course, but they were very high near the vaulted ceiling, and incredibly dirty and darkened with age. Still, now that he was looking, he could tell that they had darkened considerably. 

“I suppose I have.” 

Takatora gave a long-suffering sigh and stepped closer, offering Ryouma a hand up. “You won't be any good to me if you drop dead from overwork.”

“I believe you've said that exact thing to me before.” 

“That's because it's true.” Takatora gave his hand an extra squeeze before releasing it. Too soon, apparently, as Ryouma immediately turned and perched himself back on the stool. 

Takatora moved to stand beside him. The table had obviously been hastily dusted, there were still streaks of grey showing where Ryouma hadn't done a thorough job. A further glance at Ryouma proved that he'd just used the sleeves of his lab coat to do it. 

There was a pile of massive tomes stacked to one side, the dust that had coated them all lightly disturbed at the spine and the edges. There was another stack waiting at Ryouma's other side. Then there was the book he was currently flipping through, having previously been using it as an impromptu pillow. 

“You've been through all of these already?” Takatora tapped the top book with his forefinger, then snapped his fingers in Ryouma's ear to try and catch his attention. 

When even that didn't work, Takatora leaned in, shutting the book Ryouma was pouring over with a definitive slam on his fingers. 

Ryouma sat up straight again, blinking at Takatora owlishly. “What did you do that for?”

“You've been up all night, to the point where you actually fell asleep on top of a book. Impressive, considering I've _never_ seen you fall asleep with work in front of you.”

Ryouma frowned a bit. He still had his hand inside the book. “All this Makai history and stuff... I'm no good with it, that's all. You've only ever seen me at work I enjoy. Why do you think I left?”

“Don't try to distract me, Ryouma.” Takatora grasped his wrist and firmly pulled him away from the book, then up off the stool. “I get what you're trying. You think if you can get me interested in listening to your mysterious personal history, you can go back to skimming these books while you babble, and I'll become so enthralled in your tales that I'll stop badgering you and leave you alone to exhaust yourself into psychosis. Come on,” Takatora dragged him away from the reading table, and out the double doors into the hallway. 

“And where are we going?”

“I'm putting you to bed.” Takatora responded simply even as he kept pulling Ryouma along. For his part, Ryouma chose not to resist too thoroughly, and he went along with Takatora well enough, even if he was dragging his feet a bit. 

“How nostalgic. I don't think you've done that since university.”

“Of course, you would say that. You generally _don't_ remember when I drag you to the nearest facsimile of a bed, that's the problem when you stay awake for several days and begin to lapse into incoherence and selective amnesia.”

“I never forget what I was working on, though.” Ryouma pointed out with a note of pride that Takatora thought was incredibly misplaced. “Anyway, I think you're exaggerating. If there is one good thing my heritage has offered me in my real life, it's the ability to stay awake and functioning for extended periods of time.”

“That can't mean you _never_ have to sleep. Your brother is asleep.” 

“Well, he just fought a big nasty Horror after traveling for pretty much the entire night, to and from Zawame City, and-”

“ _Ryouma_.” Takatora said with a note of finality. “Enough. You need to rest. The books aren't going anywhere, and neither am I. You said one hundred days. Even if you count the day it happened, I've still got ninety-nine to go. We have time for you to do it _right_.”

Ryouma deflated a bit, scowling at the floor. “I wish you were less cavalier about this.”

“And I wish you'd take your own health more seriously. Not just about this. In general.”

Takatora stopped suddenly enough that Ryouma bumped into him before Takatora could get the door open.

“You're really putting me to bed like a disobedient child?”

“Well, if you're going to act like one...”

“I think that's uncalled for.” Ryouma smirked at Takatora to show he was only (mostly) teasing, and moved past Takatora into the bedroom where he had left Takatora to sleep, what must have been more than twelve hours ago. 

It really was dusk already, which left the room dimly lit at best, even with large windows at eye level and significantly cleaner than the windows in the library.

“Now _this_ is nostalgic.” Ryouma hummed, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed that Takatora had presumably made up, somewhat hastily but not without competence. 

Takatora leaned in the doorway, hands in his pockets. “How do you mean?”

“Didn't I tell you? Oh, who am I kidding. Obviously not. This was our room. Aguri's and mine.” 

Takatora's eyes widened slightly as he glanced around. He'd not examined the room with very much focus when Ryouma had brought him here originally, but now that he was thinking about it...

“Oh. It's...”

“You can say it. Very bleak. Right? Hardly any decoration. Just a couple of beds. Who would have guessed a couple of little kids ever lived here?”

“Something like that.” Takatora allowed with a lopsided grin. “Though you haven't seen _my_ childhood home.” He sighed and pushed off from the door jamb, taking a backwards step out the door. “Get some sleep, Ryouma.”

“And what do you intend to do while I'm wasting time?”

“That presupposes that sleeping is a waste of time, Ryouma. But since you asked, I thought I'd do some research on my own. You might be bored by your... Makai history, but it's all new and potentially interesting for me.” 

Ryouma also heard the unspoken need for Takatora to have some measure of control over his own fate. He couldn't really refuse him that.

“Don't let me sleep too long, now. If you have any questions...” 

“Of course.” It went without saying that Ryouma would probably _not_ sleep _too long_ , with or without Takatora's interference. “Rest well, Ryouma.”

-

“Where is my brother?”

Takatora looked up to find Aguri standing in the library doorway, arms crossed. He didn't look angry, and his tone was more mild curiosity than annoyance or even particular interest. 

“I took him to get some sleep.” 

Aguri nodded. “And he actually went?”

“I wouldn't say it was easy, but eventually, yes.” He smirked a bit. “I'm surprised, too. I've had to physically carry him to a bed before. He walked on his own the entire way, this time.”

Aguri cracked a smile at that one, and Takatora took it as a point of pride.

“Impressive.” Aguri entered the library properly, circling the reading table to peer over Takatora's shoulder. “Any luck?”

“Not yet. I must admit, I keep getting sidetracked. Your history is... Well, it's incredibly detailed, and yet so far removed from all of the history about the world I already know.”

Aguri nodded. “Keeping our very existence secret from humanity has been a struggle, at times. What are you getting sidetracked with, currently?”

Takatora kept his forefinger inside the book as he flipped it shut, letting Aguri see the large red and gold seal on the cover. Aguri gave one of his usual one-note laughs. “You somehow managed to find yourself the documented history of GARO?” 

“I was curious.” Takatora admitted. “And your library is well organized. You mentioned a legendary family line, and I wanted to know more. You don't get called _legendary_ for nothing.” He glanced at the books directly to his right. “I found all of these ones talking about varied parts of the Saejima family, but the one thing that kept coming up again and again was-”

“GARO.” Aguri agreed. “It's not a bad instinct. If there ever was a chance of reversing the effects of the cursed blood of a Horror, GARO would be the one who would have encountered it. May I?”

Takatora flipped the book open again to make note of the page number, then slid it across the table surface towards Aguri. Aguri flipped immediately to the end of the book, skimming the last few pages with a lopsided smirk on his lips.

“Of course. It's interesting, isn't it, how history can change so quickly when viewed from the perspective of a book?”

“I suppose.” Takatora leaned over to read where Aguri was. “ _Lost its golden brilliance_... What does that mean?”

Aguri chuckled softly again. “ _That_ is a much longer story than you have time for. There won't be any stories about GARO without its shine in any of the books we need to solve your problem.”

“Why not?”

“Honestly? Because once GARO lost its shine, it remained stationary for several decades before being taken up by someone I know personally, who has certainly, to my knowledge, never had to save a human from a Horror's curse. Not _that_ kind of curse, anyway.” He paused. “Of course, it couldn't hurt to see what he's been up to _since_.” 

“Ah, speaking of which.” Takatora scooted the book back in front of himself as Aguri turned away, moving towards one of the shelves Takatora hadn't yet been to. “You said you would send a message to my brother.”

“That's already been taken care of.” Aguri shook his head, then moved to another shelf. This one was filled with carefully stacked scrolls and smaller tomes that were soft-bound in cloth. Also, filthy- it looked as if no one had bothered pouring through any of these potentially much more ancient texts in years. Even considering Ryouma had implied the house had gone uninhabited since his father died, this shelf seemed to have been the last stop for anyone seeking knowledge. Takatora wondered if that made it more likely that the answer he was looking for _was_ on that shelf, or wasn't. 

“How so?” He pressed, turning away from watching Aguri dust off the spines of the soft books. 

“Makai Knights have ways of staying in contact with one another that supersede your methods of communication. In addition, Zawame City is a special case, as our perspective goes, in as much as it rests on the border between two of our districts.”

“I read about that. GARO was traditionally the protector of the Eastern District.” 

“That's so. Each district is assigned at least one Knight to protect it. The majority of Zawame lies in mine- the Northern district. But once your Yggdrasill corporation arrived with their plans of expansion, part of the city spread into the neighboring district. That's lucky for you, as the Western district is currently under the jurisdiction of a friend of mine.” 

“And you sent this... friend, to deliver a message to my brother?”

“In a manner of speaking. He will also keep track of any Horrors that might manifest there while I am otherwise occupied... Though I doubt it will be a problem. Previously to this current event, I have never been called to Zawame for any reason.”

“Not even to see your brother.” Takatora noted, mostly to himself. Aguri scoffed.

“No, not even that.”


	6. Chapter 6

As the days went on, the Kusugami library came to resemble something of a war zone. As Ryouma grew more and more frustrated with his inability to find the answer he was seeking, he also grew less meticulous about straightening up after himself. He would stand for more than an hour, pacing amongst two tomes and a scroll, then determine by some insane logic of his own devising that none of them contained his needed knowledge, and abandon them all where he left them to move to some other corner of the library, and a new stack of books. 

Aguri was much more calm, sitting for hours the way Ryouma claimed he was once able to, scanning a single book from cover to cover for any indication of a human cleansed of a Horror's blood. That is, when he was researching. More and more frequently, he would leave the library without a word to the others, and return slightly breathless, and he and Ryouma would exchange a worried glance that Takatora was quite sure he wasn't intended to catch. But catch it he did, and he knew that each time Aguri left, it was to destroy another Horror attacking their supposed safe house. 

For his part, Takatora mostly kept an eye on Ryouma, made sure he and Aguri both ate and slept occasionally, and continued to read the first book that had caught his attention and held it fast. 

Perhaps it was fate, if Takatora believed in such a thing, that had brought him to the history of GARO, because it was here that at last progress was made.

“Hey.” He said, then realizing none of them had spoken since the last time Aguri had returned from fighting a Horror and that his voice was somewhat rusty, he cleared his throat and tried again. “Hey, I think I may have found something.”

Ryouma looked up, then shoved the book he was currently pouring through onto the floor with a thump that echoed through the room. “How? You've been reading the same book this whole time.”

Takatora elected not to get into it with Ryouma when he was obviously irritated, and just gestured for Ryouma to come closer. Aguri answered the beckons first, leaning over Takatora's right shoulder. Takatora flipped forward a few pages, and tapped one segment.

“This here says that Saejima Raiga was the son of the previous GARO, and a _human_ woman, not unique but uncommon in the GARO line. I thought that seemed important, so I went to find out more about this woman. She's mentioned frequently throughout the tenure of Saejima Kouga as GARO, and here.” Takatora flipped back again as he spoke, then allowed Aguri to slide the book closer to himself.

Now, Ryouma was intrigued enough to move closer, and he leaned across Takatora to try to see for himself. “What's it say, _otouto_?”

“I've asked you not to call me that.” Aguri reminded Ryouma idly as he scanned the passage, then looked up, his eyes slightly wide as they met first Takatora's gaze, then his brother's. “He's right... Here, _Saejima Kouga successfully broke the curse of a blood-spattered human woman, Mitsuki Kaoru, who he later took as his wife._ ”

“That's it, isn't it? There's only the one curse?” Takatora asked, but Aguri became too absorbed in the rest of the text, scanning the surrounding pages for more information. 

“Well, I told you the curse had to have been broken at some point.” Ryouma pointed out with a little sigh. “But that book is just a history book, it's not going to tell us _how_ he did it.”

“But something else might.” Aguri broke back into the conversation. “ _...inherited the collection of the acclaimed Priest Amon..._ ” He turned sharply and marched back over to the wall of scrolls and soft-covered tomes. “Priest Amon... He's legendary...” He mused to himself. “If Saejima Kouga had his collection, that might be where he learned to break the curse... And if that's so, then that same knowledge is here, somewhere.” 

“I've been saying that from the beginning.” Ryouma reminded his brother, exasperated. “But we haven't found it yet.”

“I've never known you to be so defeatist, Ryouma.” Takatora found he was almost reprimanding him, and Ryouma scowled in return. “You could try to have a little bit of hope.”

“That's pretty rich, coming from you, Takatora.” 

Takatora raised an eyebrow at him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Will both of you be quiet?” Aguri broke in. Takatora and Ryouma both turned to peer at him, surprised. Aguri had one specific tome in his hands, spread open. “I found it.” 

Ryouma's eyes went wide and he lunged at his brother, snatching the book out of his hands. “What? How? Where? No, none of that matters. What do I do?” 

Aguri grabbed the book back, and shook his head. “ _You_ won't do anything. The answer is in the Guren Forest. There is a fruit that grows only there, called Varancas, that when administered, dissipates the curse.” He sighed. “I should have known, I'm sorry that I never gave it a thought. It's just that... It's possible the entrance to the Forest is sealed.”

“What is this forest?” Takatora asked quietly. His mind was on Helheim, and the threats involved there. Would he ever again escape the ebb and flow of supernatural forests and their dangerous fruit? 

“The Guren Forest exists between life and death. It is a pathway, mostly, between the two realms.” His eyes landed on Ryouma again. “You remember the legends. _If_ it's still possible to access, it will take a Knight to complete this task.” 

Ryouma shrugged his shoulder, and turned to leave. “See if I care.”

“Like hell!” Aguri tossed the book down on the table and took three long strides to catch up with his brother, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him against the doorjamb. 

It was a little unnerving, seeing them snarling into each others faces like that, Takatora thought. Like Ryouma getting angry at a darkened mirror. 

“You'll be killed, or worse, you'll be lost and wander. You're not a Knight, Ryouma. You never wanted to be, and now you've escaped it, but that is exactly why you cannot go in there.”

“I'm going.” Ryouma shoved his brother back, and Aguri hit the opposite side of the doorway with a soft huffing breath. “This is my responsibility, it's my fault.”

“You're being an idiot, Ryouma, and I'm not about to let my brother walk into death without a second thought. I'll go, and I will bring the fruit back for your-” He paused, then sighed again. “Your friend. But you can't...”

“Neither can you!” Ryouma retorted sharply. “You have to stay here, Aguri, you have to protect him while I'm gone.”

There was a long pause. Takatora wisely remained silent. While he didn't like the idea of Ryouma, his idiot scientist who hardly even remembered to put a real coat on when it was freezing out, if he even went outside... Subjecting himself to, what did Aguri say? _A pathway between life and death_? He also knew that he and Ryouma would be little better than sitting ducks if left alone for too long, the way the Horror attacks had increased lately. 

“I have a spare bow, you can still shoot, can't you?”

“Not as good as you. You know I wouldn't hold out.” Ryouma closed his eyes, took a steeling breath. He was tugging on the streak in his fringe again. “Aguri, please. You have to protect him.”

Aguri's jaw worked as he struggled to find some hole in Ryouma's plea, but in the end he shook his head and his shoulders slumped slightly as he acquiesced. 

Ryouma sighed, relieved, and turned again.

“Wait.” Aguri said firmly. Takatora had moved closer now that their confrontation had ended. Aguri stood in the doorway of the library, and slowly raised a hand to his chest. His fingers lingered over the circular crest that he wore, that matched the one Ryouma had still not removed from the pocket of his coat. Then he began to loosen the top buckle that held on his coat.

“Aguri...” Ryouma's voice was soft, and Takatora heard a tone in it that he was, while not unfamiliar with, not entirely used to. Shock. “You're not.”

“Just shut up.” Aguri grumbled. He opened all three buckles, then very carefully shrugged off his coat. 

Takatora had never seen him with it off, but he'd noticed the silk-like shirt he wore beneath it. 

“Aguri, you can't give me that.”

“Why not?” Aguri retorted, holding the coat out with both hands. “Take it. It will help to protect you.” 

“It's not mine.” Ryouma's words were heavy, and he shook his head. “You... You need it. If I don't come back...”

“You'll come back.” Aguri said firmly, stepping closer and all but shoving the coat into Ryouma's arms. Ryouma just blinked at him for a moment, then seemed to give in. He draped the long duster over one arm, and shrugged out of his own lab coat. 

The duster fit him neatly, just as well as it did Aguri. He fastened each buckle carefully, with the same sort of reverence that Takatora had seen him treat the ring he wore, and the crest on his pocket. 

“One more thing.” Aguri said. From what seemed like nowhere, he produced an arrow, just like the one that had shattered Takatora's office window- silver head, black shaft, and red fletching. “Take it. You might need a weapon.”

“What do you expect me to do with a single arrow, and no bow?” Ryouma said skeptically.

Aguri's grin was familiar to Takatora, but only from Ryouma's lips. “I'm sure you'll figure it out.” 

-

Ryouma left that night. 

There was another attack within an hour of his departure.

Takatora stood in the doorway to watch Aguri fight. With no more research to do, he suddenly felt cooped up, like a caged animal. His fingers itched for his Driver, but he had made a silent promise to himself not to put himself into any unnecessary danger. Aguri had stayed to protect him. It wouldn't do to get himself injured, on top of being cursed.

It was a tough sell, though, even debating with himself, as this particular Horror seemed to be giving Aguri more trouble than usual. Perhaps Aguri was distracted with thoughts of his brother on a mad mission that he had little hope of succeeding.

Takatora chided himself for being pessimistic, then immediately found reason to approve of his own dour outlook when another Horror appeared from the darkness and attacked Aguri from the back.

Now it was beginning to look truly hopeless, and Takatora's Driver was in his hand before he remembered that Ryouma had never returned the Lockseed he'd used to fend off the first Horror that had started this whole mess. 

He remained still, watching the increasingly hopeless battle. So fixated was he on the fight taking place that he didn't notice the next new arrival until he landed with a wild scream, cleaving one of the Horrors neatly in two from horns to tail. 

Another Makai Knight. 

Whoever he was, Aguri must know him, as the pair fought as though they had been doing so for years. Moving right into an intricate dance to hem the first Horror back away from the house, Aguri's arrows always seeming to bend and skirt around the other Knight at the last moment to drive into the Horror's flesh. 

The fight ended with a terrible screech, and the Horror dissipated into darkness, as they all had.

Aguri's armor left him, as did the red armor encasing his surprise savior.

“Takeru? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, Aguri. What were you thinking?” The stranger paused, then turned around and made a wide sweeping wave over his head. “Oi, kid! It's okay! It's safe now! C'mere!” 

Takatora's heart leaped into his throat. He knew, somehow, in that precise moment, who this was. The Knight Aguri knew from the other district that overlapped Zawame. And in that, he knew who the _kid_ he was summoning was, too.

“Mitsuzane?”


	7. Chapter 7

Aguri pushed Takeru firmly into the first room with a thick door he could find, slamming the door behind himself and standing firmly in the way, arms crossed over his chest, frowning.

Takeru, for his part, seemed nonplussed to say the least. He sauntered across the room with his usual maddening lack of self-awareness, unclasping his coat at the throat and letting it spread open over his chest- the way Aguri was much more accustomed to seeing it. Then he pulled out the desk chair, spinning it and dropping casually down to sit, arms crossed over the high back, resting his chin on them and looking up at Aguri. There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth that Aguri knew was his valiant attempt to keep from smirking. 

“What are you doing here?” Aguri demanded, when Takeru remained silent. 

“What, no 'long time, no see'? No 'how have you been'? Not even a 'thanks for saving my butt back there'?” 

Aguri closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a steeling breath. “While your arrival was timely, that doesn't answer the question of why it occurred at all... But that is not even my primary concern.”

“Oh? What is then?” 

Aguri opened his eyes, fixing his glare back on Takeru. “You abandoned your post, and you brought an unarmed human child here, for what purpose? What were you thinking?”

That seemed to have hit a nerve. Takeru's back straightened slightly as he lifted his chin from his arms, his eyebrows furrowing. “That kid isn't a child. And anyway, what were _you_ thinking, dragging his brother away without even half a thought to what the kid would think?”

“Takeru...” 

“Nah, Aguri! I don't wanna hear it. They're family. That kid deserves every _bit_ to know what his brother's going through! That he's in danger!”

“So you put _him_ in danger?”

“That's my business, and I'm taking care of it.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence and Aguri shook his head. “Takeru, it's been two years. This Kureshima boy has nothing to do with Suzaki Genki, and you know it. They aren't even of an age! What are you trying to prove?” 

Takeru stood up sharply, kicking the chair out of his way and striding up to Aguri, grabbing a handful of his shirt and shaking him briefly before his momentary anger lapsed, and he took another step back, awkwardly brushing the wrinkled bunch out of Aguri's shirt. 

“Where's your coat?” 

Aguri let his eyes roll towards the ceiling. “You are still a common idiot.” 

“Ya know, insulting me never worked to derail me in the past. Tell me what's going on, Aguri. The truth, all of it.”

“Since you're here, instead of protecting your District and Zawame, I suppose I might as well tell you.” He hesitated, wincing a bit, wondering where, exactly, he was supposed to start. Ryouma was not the only one who had kept the existence of his twin a secret. 

“Well?” 

“Kureshima Takatora has been stained by the blood of an Inga Horror. I told you as much in the missive.” 

“Yeah? So? What does that have to do with you? Aren't you Mister Follows All The Laws? What makes this guy so special?”

“My brother is in love with him.”

“Oh. That's kinda sweet.” Takeru blinked, then frowned. “Wait, your...”

“Brother, yes. My... Twin brother.”

“Hold on, wait a minute.” Takeru waved both arms in front of his face. Aguri found his eyes tracing the path of Takeru's right fist through the air- the Soul Metal seemed to catch the light and absorb it. “How long have you had a twin?”

“Since I was born.” Aguri stated simply, shifting back from Takeru a bit and leaning against the door with a sigh. “That's generally how twins work.”

“Alright, smart ass. Why have I never heard about this twin? I mean... Kusugami Clan. The School. This place? You're like, big fuckin' deals, even I know that.”

“Truly shocking, considering your general lack of concern about Makai history or law.” 

“Will ya knock it off? So you have a twin. A twin who's still alive. And he... Isn't a Knight? Or a Priest? Or anything?”

“No. He renounced his heritage and his claim to the Kusugami line. He's... A scientist.” 

Takeru blinked a few times, very slowly, then shook his head. “Alright, alright. Seems wild, but go on. He loves this Kureshima guy, so you're. What? Trying to break the blood curse?”

“Precisely. There is a way. In the-”

“Guren Forest. Varancas Fruit. I know about that.”

Aguri's eyes widened and he stood up from his position against the door. “You what?”

Takeru smirked at him. “My, my. Maybe you should have asked your friends before you panicked over impossibly lost knowledge? Breaking that kinda curse is totally against the laws you're so fond of... So of course I know how to do it.” 

“You continue to be near-to-insufferable, Takeru. Fine. My brother has gone to the Guren Forest to retrieve the Varancas and save the life of the man he loves.” 

“Romantic. There's just one problem with that idea, right?”

“He's no Knight.”

-

Even Ryouma had reason to be surprised by the instincts that led him to the entrance to the Guren Forest. Having removed himself so thoroughly from his Makai past, he had no right to find this first part of the quest going so easily for him. He chalked it up to Aguri's coat. The Makai duster was much more form-fitting than Ryouma was used to wearing, and he knew it must look patently ridiculous on him, but it also did its part to make him feel confident. 

Not to mention, it gave him an extra purpose to return unscathed. He would not die in debt to his brother. 

His soul already belonged to Helheim anyway. 

Ryouma approached the entrance with his head held high. “Tamuba, Guardian of the entrance to Guren Forest!” This much had been spelled out in the old Priest's tome, as had been the price that would be asked of him- though even Ryouma didn't quite know what it was that was dearest to his heart. 

“Allow me entrance to the forest!”

The hybrid woman, at least partly tree, seemed to unfold from the arched top of the entrance. “Who could be shouting at this hour?” She creaked in a wooden voice, stretching her branched arms and rolling her head before she focused her piercing gaze down upon him. 

She bared her mossy teeth in a predatory grin. “Oh, what a handsome young man you are. You want into the forest? Are you prepared to creep in between my thighs?”

Ryouma restrained the impulse to roll his eyes. “Whatever it takes. I am here for a reason, and I will enter by force if need be.”

“There _won't_ need be.” She scoffed, leaning down over him with a tremulous creak, shedding leaves and lichen. “I'll let you in, boy, if just for sheer cheek. You know no one has come calling at me for many generations. I thought you Knights had all forgotten about me- or maybe you'd just gotten better at protecting your charges.” 

“I am no Knight.” Ryouma admitted defiantly.

“Oh, is that so? A Priest, then? You have the scent of magic about you. Things have sure changed, that I can't tell a Knight from a Priest in my advanced age.” 

“No.” Ryouma returned. “I am neither a Priest.” 

She scowled at him, leaning back again. “Then leave.”

“You said you'd let me in.” 

She laughed at him, shaking her head, shedding more leaves. “Are you a fool, boy? I said I'd let you in because you dress like a Knight and you smell like a Priest. But you claim to be neither, and so, you say 'let me in', but all I hear is 'let me die'. No, I will not allow you to throw yourself to the mercy of the Horrors within. Be on your way. Return that garment to whoever you stole it from.”

“I did not steal this.” Ryouma shifted, passing the arrow he was still carrying into his left hand, and pressing his right hand over the crest- not his, which was still pinned to the consultation coat he'd left at the manor. This was Aguri's crest. 

“I am Kusugami Ryouma, eldest son of Kusugami Hayato and his wife, formerly Saejima Aki.” He lapsed into the old Makai language naturally, speaking an old family proverb, “ _A Kusugami always aims true, a Kusugami arrow will never miss its mark_.” He blinked, his eyes stinging, and he shrugged it off, blaming the intensity of his stare at the old woman and her crossed legs blocking his path. “I will retrieve the Varancas and cleanse the curse from my friend. I will not die. Now! Let me pass!” 

The woman stared at him for some time, seemingly in shock. And then she started to laugh. More dust and bark showered from her as she cackled herself breathless. “That's good.” She gasped as her laughter subsided. “That's very good. Fine, then. Your heart isn't pure, not by a long shot, but your intentions ring true. Go, then.” She spread her branches again, and this time the entrance to the forest, a bluish vortex, widened as her root-legs spread. “And come back in one piece!” She called as Ryouma bowed and ducked forward into the Forest. “Your brother will surely be wanting his coat back!” 

-

Aguri and Takeru found Takatora and Mitsuzane in the library. Takatora stood up and approached the entrance, his hands in his pockets. 

“I want you to take Mitsuzane back to Zawame City. As soon as possible. This is no place for him, and it has only been more and more dangerous as time goes on.”

“No!” Mitsuzane jumped down from the stool he had been perched on. He was slight, but he moved gracefully. He had the makings of a fine Priest, had he any heritage. Which he didn't, Aguri reminded himself, and that was all the more reason why he shouldn't be here. 

“Niisan, I'm not going. I want to be here.”

“Impossible. Mitsuzane, I will not have you be in danger.”

“You're in danger! _Mortal_ danger, Takeru-san told me!” 

Aguri and Takatora both turned their heads to glare at Takeru, who shrugged, avoiding their gazes as he closed the clasp at his throat again. 

“Niisan, I won't leave you here. If you...” Mitsuzane reached for his brother's hand, tugging it out of his pocket and taking it carefully in both of his hands, fixing him with an imploring look that even Aguri was hard pressed to deny. “If you die, I want to be here. I don't want you to die alone.”

“Mitsuzane...” 

“Please, let me stay. I'll keep out of the way when the battles happen...”

“You think there's gonna be more fights?” Takeru interjected curiously. “How many Horrors have you been attracting anyway, niisan?”

Takatora raised an eyebrow at Takeru, who smirked and ducked his head. “Sorry, sorry. But seriously. I know the smell of a tainted human is supposed to be like the serious buffet time in Horror land, but...”

“It has been a problem.” Aguri admitted softly. “The protections around this estate are not as defined or well maintained as they should be. Predictably, as no one has lived here in several years. But it means that we are at risk from attacks... More than nightly, lately.” 

“Damn.” Takeru shrugged his shoulders back, then bounced half a step nearer to Aguri and slapped him on the arm. “Well, I guess in that case I had better definitely stick around, right?”

“And Zawame?” Takatora asked quietly. “What will happen to my city?”

“Pfft.” Takeru waved his hand in the air as if to shoo the question away. “If you smell as bad, or I guess to them it's good, as you guys are saying... There's not gonna be any Horrors bothering with Zawame... As if they ever bothered in the first place! Nah, they're all bound to come here instea-” Takeru's words trailed off as a demonic roar echoed from the outside of the estate. His eyes widened and he glanced up at Aguri with surprise. “You weren't kidding.”

“Will you accompany me?” Aguri asked with a hint of a grin at the corners of his mouth. Takatora wondered if Ryouma knew about this irreverent Knight, or Aguri's obvious fondness for him. He decided that, no, Ryouma probably did not know. 

All the more reason for him to return safely, though he didn't know it.

“Alright!” Takeru produced his curved sword from somewhere beneath the tails of his own coat. Aguri adjusted his shirt, then reached for his bow where he'd left it leaning against the wall. 

Takeru smacked Aguri's arm again, then headed for the door. “Let's kick some ass!”


End file.
